


Reasons why Boba and Han are no Longer Allowed to Kill Each Other

by Sunshine_bats



Series: Grogu and his Ever Expanding Extended Family of Bisexuals and Bounty Hunters [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Din and Boba and Luke are all coparenting whether they realize it or not, Din and Boba are v much in love in this, Established Relationship, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Light bullying of the Solo men only bc I think I’m funny, M/M, Sunshine Luke Skywalker, and they v much love their son, slightly ooc for comedic reasons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_bats/pseuds/Sunshine_bats
Summary: After a change in their relationship, Din asks Boba to come with him on his next visit with his son and Luke, who wants to introduce them the extended family they’ve all gained since Din began co-parenting with a Jedi. The only problem? No one told Luke that Din’s partner was Boba Fett, and no one told Boba Fett that Luke’s family includes Leia Organa and Han Solo.3/10/21 Note: While working on the final chapter, I decided to post some revisions/rewrites for chapters 2 & 3 since I was posting them as I wrote. These edits should help better balance different character portrayals and interactions :^)
Relationships: Boba Fett & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Boba Fett, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: Grogu and his Ever Expanding Extended Family of Bisexuals and Bounty Hunters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188038
Comments: 119
Kudos: 657





	1. Invitations of All Kinda

**Author's Note:**

> So I went back and forth between keeping a few mando’a words in or getting rid of them and just stating that their whole conversation is in mando’a, but there's a few words that I like better in mando’a than I do in like, Star Wars basic, so I decided to keep it for now. 
> 
> Anyway, first fic here, hope it makes u laugh
> 
> Mando’a  
> Cyar’ika: darling  
> cyare: beloved  
> Osik: shit  
> Buir: parent  
> Ka’ra: stars  
> riduur: partner

“Hey,” Boba mumbled, his voice raspy with sleep,” I think your comm’s chirping.”

The blankets thrown across Boba’s chest shifted as Din curled closer, grumbling something annoyed against the hollow of his throat. Boba ran a hand down his boyfriend’s back, and sighed. “Cyar’ika, your comm— stop wiggling like that, you’re getting your hair in my mouth— your comm’s still buzzing.” 

Din grumbled something again, pulling his legs up higher so he could knock his feet against Boba’s shins, and _kriff_ why were his toes always so karking cold? 

“I still don’t know what you’re saying,” Boba complained into the empty air of their ship's dark bedroom. 

“ _Ka’ra_ ,” the other man hissed, finally tearing his head up from the pillow he had made of Boba’s scarred collarbones. “I _said_ that they’ll call twice if it’s important. We’ve been up for thirty-six hours straight hours,” and oh, Boba could practically feel him glaring, “And we ran out of stims at hour twenty-five. We’re sleeping now.”

Boba wrinkled his nose. Ugh. Morning breath in the middle of the night. “You always forget to turn your comm off before we go to bed,” he complained again. 

“Then you get up and turn it off,” Din said, settling back down onto Boba’s chest. 

Boba pulled the blankets over them again with a sigh. “I can’t. You’re lying on top of me.” 

“What a shame,” Din hummed, already halfway back to sleep. The comm stopped buzzing. 

_Guess it’s waiting ‘til morning then,_ Boba thought wryly before tucking his chin over the mess that was Din’s helmet hair, and closed his eyes. 

***

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Boba sighed as he inspected their fridge, trying to decide what he needed for their first meal. 

Din glowered behind him. Boba glanced back at him. He looked so much smaller than usual, standing in the cramped gallery of their ship with no armor and no dark saber attached to his hip, his sleep clothes as rumpled as the dissatisfied look sitting upon his face. Only Boba and the kid were trusted with that face, with those worry lines and chapped lips and stubby eyelashes. The thought made something disgustingly warm and yellow break open in Boba’s chest. 

_Eggs,_ he thought, turning back around. _I’ll make eggs for first meal_.

“I hate missing comms from Luke.”

“He knew we were coming back from a long bounty, and would be exhausted,” Boba said, grabbing what he needed from the fridge before pulling a pan out from the drawer under the stove. Jango had insisted on keeping a functioning little kitchenette on his ship, adamant that his young son was going to eat more than just ration bars during their trips. Boba had never seen any reason to get rid of it, even if he hadn’t used it much before Din and the kid started hanging around. 

“Skywalker was probably just leaving a message. Nothing important, otherwise he would have commed twice, remember?”

“Right, yeah,” Din said. Boba heard him scratch at the stubble on his face, probably rubbing a hand across his mouth. “Still. I hate missing his calls, even when he does leave a message.”

“The kid’s fine,” Boba said, flicking on the stove top. 

“I know.”

“So everything’s okay.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Boba let a familiar, comfortable quiet sit between them as he began to fry their breakfast, taking a moment to run a finger across the neat little row of jars full of cooking spices that he kept secured in a drawer. It was nothing compared to the collection he kept on Tatooine, but it would do. It was another nod to his buir, who always kept the drawer well stocked when he was a child. After all, it was impossible to make their favorite foods without a good bit of heat. 

Boba let the memories wash over him, all the times he had snuck aboard this ship to follow Jango on his bounties. He had thought he was so bold then, so brave, so clever, hiding himself in the cabinets or the vents before lift off. He loved popping out of his hiding place as soon as they hit hyperspace, surprising his buir with a tackle and a shout. Jango always played along, teasing and sparing with him until he decided the game was over. Then he would lift Boba up, spin him around in a circle, and smack a kiss on his forehead before shepherding him off towards his room and the education modules he’d left on his bunk for Boba to work on. He’d always cook something warm for Boba before leaving him on the ship during the more dangerous hunts. 

He didn’t always let Boba sneak on. Not if Jango thought Boba couldn’t handle it. Except for—

Boba shook his head, pulling himself back into the present. No need to linger on old memories, not unless he wanted to explain them to Din. His lover was already so patient with him, never pushing for the details of his stories. For someone who’s trauma had long since been the stuff of public knowledge and legend, Boba appreciated the discretion. He wasn’t ready to break that over first meal. 

Either way, their eggs needed a kick to them, something to really wake the two of them up. Boba popped the top off a jar, and let the warm, familiar scent settle any unease he had carried with him into the morning. 

“So what did Skywalker want?” Boba asked casually as he moved towards a cramped little table they kept bolted to the floor. He passed a plate to his boyfriend as they began to settle across from each other. 

Din was suspiciously quiet as he accepted the finished food, tapping his fork against the side of his plate. Boba narrowed his eyes. Din was a quiet man by nature, but he didn’t usually ignore Boba’s questions. 

“Din?”

“Luke invited me to a, uh,” Din paused to think, tapping his fork against the table as he searched for the best words and gave up. “I think he called it a family day.”

“A family day? What, like he’s inviting all his students' parents to drop by and say hello?” 

“Er, no.” Din took a quick bite of his food, chewing to avoid talking. That was fine. Boba could wait. His patience was excellent, thank you very much. He didn’t get to be the best bounty hunter in the galaxy by rushing into things. 

Still, Din’s avoidance was making his brow twitch. It didn’t matter if there wasn’t any hair left there anymore. It still twitched. 

“I uh, I think he just means,” Din began, and _osik_ , Boba thought, were Din’s cheeks going red? “I think he just means _his_ family. He said his sister and her husband would be there too.”

_His family._ “Oh?” Boba said in a strangled voice. “And he invited you too?”

Kriff, Din’s cheeks really _were_ red now! “Yeah. We’re co-parenting Grogu.” Din looked away, picking at his eggs again. “We kind of have to co-parent since there’s a chance Grogu’s going to have to stay with him in the crèche for the rest of our lives,” Din said with a forced shrug. “We have no idea how slowly he ages, and neither of us are about to abandon him, so here we are.”

Boba knew all of this, of course. He wasn’t exactly happy about it, and had said as much many times, but it was an old argument at this point. Skywalker would never hurt the child, and was, unfortunately, the only teacher who could help Grogu with his force osik. So Boba wasn’t allowed to kill him for the sarlacc pit. Han Solo, however, Boba would shoot on sight. That man had better hope Boba was never in the same star system as him. 

“Still. Family day.” Boba’s voice still had an odd tone to it. 

Din looked up at him, finally making eye contact over their food. Din’s eyes softened even as he worried his bottom lip. “Yeah, family day. We’re always going to be more involved with him than most of his other students’ parents, so he wants me to meet his family.”

“ _We’re?_ ” Boba said in a very manly manner, absolutely not squeaking at all. “What do you mean _we’re_?”

“As in us?” Din said, confused.

“ _Us?_ ”

Din sighed, taking a bite of his eggs and glancing up at the ceiling in annoyance. “Now you’re just repeating everything I say.” 

“Well everything you’re saying is kind of confusing, so I think I have a right to be confused about it,” Boba said, stabbing his eggs with a huff. 

Din tilted his head, his gestures still exaggerated as if he were still in his armor. “What’s confusing?”

Boba made a complicated hand gesture with his empty fork. “Us? You including me as a buir to your child?”

“Boba. Your ship—”

“Our ship,” Boba immediately corrected. 

Din’s mouth upturned into an exasperated little half-smile. “Ok. Our ship.” Boba nodded, sharp and embarrassed. 

“Well,” Din started again, “Our ship, which was originally your ship before Grogu and I started staying with you, always has Grogu’s favorite foods on board even when I don’t restock them, a chest full of toys that I definitely didn’t buy for him, a baby seat someone put in the cockpit—”

“I didn’t like the way he lurched forward whenever we entered light speed!” Boba interjected. “The adult seat belt doesn’t fit him well.”

“Of course,” Din nodded very seriously. “You also taped several pictures of the three of us and Fennec above his bed, another thing that I did not add to the ship.”

“I didn’t want him to be lonely at night,” Boba said archly. 

“Right. You also gave him one of the best bedrooms in Jabba’s palace, and you keep it empty when he’s not there.” 

“He’s a growing boy, Djarin, he’s going to need all that space someday.” Osik, even Boba didn’t believe that one. _Kriff_. 

“And you almost always invite me and the kid to stay with you whenever Luke sends him back with me for family time.”

“That’s because I love you and want to spend time with you.” Great, now Boba’s cheeks were burning. He hoped Din couldn’t see his flush under all the scarring. 

From the way the other man’s lips were twitching, Boba wasn’t so lucky. _Double kriff._ “I love you too, cyare, but you are definitely his third buir at this point.”

“So does that mean we’re hyphenating the kid’s last name?” Boba tried to joke desperately. 

Din looked unfortunately thoughtful. “If you want.”

And oh, _ka’ra_ , Boba could not handle this realization this early in the day. “We should probably exchange armor before we start exchanging names.”

Din looked as surprised as Boba felt. Triple kriff, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, not yet, not this soon. He had a plan for this! Fennec was going to kill him when she found out he got engaged without following the incredibly detailed plan she had so loyally helped him craft. It involved a new coat of paint for his vambraces, an extremely impressive fight Boba was going to win in front of his lover, a five star late meal, and then a five star hotel room. But no, now he had just blown it and accidentally proposed to Din in his sleep clothes over their cooling, slightly soggy eggs. 

“Yeah,” Din said, dazed. “Maybe we should exchange armor.” 

Boba groaned, throwing his head into his hands. “This isn’t how I meant to ask you,” he said, voice muffled against his palms.

“Hey,” Din said, sliding forward in his seat to press his ankle against Boba’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Boba groaned, his palms still sitting squarely over his face. “Please never tell anyone this is how I asked.”

Din drew his foot back to push himself off his bench only to immediately slide next to his fiancé. He wrapped an arm roughly around Boba’s shoulder, and knocked his cheek roughly against the side of Boba’s head. “Think of it this way, my riduur: now you get to come with me to see Grogu at Luke’s place for family day.”

It was all Boba could do not to drop his head against the table in despair. 


	2. Piss-Poor Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando’a:  
> Gai bal manda- Mandalorian Adoption Ceremony  
> Riduur- partner, in this case husband  
> Ad’ika- child  
> Osik- shit  
> Ka’ra- stars  
> Jetii- Jedi
> 
> 3/10/21 Note: I rewrote a few parts of one of the scenes in this chapter after going back to edit the story as a whole. I’m sorry if I changed some of your favorite lines, but I’m hoping this version will better balance different characters’ emotions :^)

Din’s back ached against the faded synthleather of the pilots chair. _Getting old is not all it’s cracked up to be,_ Din thought, suppressing the urge to pop his joints while he checked on the nav system. 

Technically it was Boba’s turn to fly, but the man was still sulking somewhere deeper in the ship. Din felt no bitterness over this. The longer Boba took to work through his feelings, the less likely he was to snap at Luke on sight. 

_Unless he’s stewing_. Oh stars, he was probably stewing. Din stifled the urge to put his head in his hands with a groan. The nav system beeped at him as if it was laughing. 

Why would Din assume Boba was handling this well? Sure, they’d had several days to prepare before this trip, but Din knew Boba better than anyone else in his life, save their child. Several days was not enough time. 

The thing is, well. Din wasn’t an idiot. Of course he’d picked up on the fact that Boba disliked Luke, even if he had grown somewhat more reserved about his dislike over time. There was no use repeating the same argument everytime Din came home with Grogu, especially when their son seemed happy with his new mentor. But little gods, Boba had not been quiet about Luke back when Din and Boba first started working together again. 

Two years ago, Din finally drummed up the nerve to comm Boba back after disappearing in the aftermath of Gideon’s capture so he could go help Grogu settle in at the temple. Boba, still just Fett then, had been wholly unimpressed to learn that Din had left the starship in the hands of Bo-Katan and his son in the hands of Luke Skywalker. Despite an argument that Fennec apparently found loud and annoying enough to warrant a half-heart attempt at stunning them both, Boba had still offered Din a place in his new bounty hunting syndicate. It was an excellent way to avoid Bo-Katan’s crew and any responsibility that came with the title of Mand’alor. If their syndicate had a steadily growing population of Mandalorians that Boba kept putting Din in charge of, well, surely that was unrelated. 

Din winced under his helmet. Yeah. Definitely unrelated. 

And maybe being based out of Tatooine wasn’t ideal, but it gave Grogu plenty of space to wander around when Luke sent him back for family time. Honestly, Luke’s policy of encouraging family involvement and Fennec’s policy of not messing with insanely powerful wizards was probably the only reason Boba hadn’t _really_ tried to kill Luke yet. 

Din had been told that the jetiise were one of the biggest hereditary enemies of the Mandalorians, but he hadn’t expected Boba, with his complicated relationship to his heritage, to take the grudge so seriously. 

Obviously he was wrong. 

But Din had faith that, in time, he’d come around. He hoped this visit would at least start _some_ sort of reconciliation process. Grogu was Boba’s son now too. He was planning on saying the gai bal manda as soon as the kid was back aboard their ship. They just had to get through today first. 

Even if Boba never begrudged Grogu for practicing his magic— no, the Force, Luke said it’s called the Force— it would probably be best if Boba didn’t hate their son’s entire religious group. 

Befriending Luke seemed like a good place to start. After all, who could hate Luke Skywalker? 

***

_I kriffing hate Luke Skywalker_ , Boba thought miserably. They were fifteen minutes from landing and Boba had been sitting in the gallery with his bucket jammed tightly over his head for the past seventy. 

Boba liked Skywalker best when he was just someone on the other end of Din’s comm. It made him seem less real, and harder to stay angry with. 

The last time Boba had seen Luke Skywalker in person was when his idiot friend Han Solo had been dicking around in a half-blind panic and knocked Boba into the sarlacc pit. 

That was the start to the second most traumatizing period of his life, and worse, it was _embarrassing_ too _._ Solo hadn’t even _meant_ to hit him, and he _still_ had nearly killed Boba, one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy, with his flailing, pointy elbows, and a metal stick. It had been a karking _joke_ , and half the galaxy had already laughed at it by the time he was finally able to get off fekking Tatooine. 

Thank the stars no one had filmed that. It was hard enough trying to claw back his reputation without some viral holovid of him nearly dying going around. Boba wrinkled his nose at the thought of anyone else hearing the way he yelled as he slammed into the side of Jabba’s ship, and tumbled through the sand into the gaping maw of some ugly plant. Boba shivered. _Osik_ , taking over Jabba’s palace and restarting his own syndicate was for the best. That definitely helped improve his reputation again, especially once he started shooting anyone who brought up the plant. 

_Except Fennec_ , he reminded himself. That was different. 

The comm in his helmet sparked to life. “We’re just above atmosphere,” Din said softly. Boba felt his shoulders ease at the familiar sound of Din’s voice while his stomach clenched at the reminder that he was precious minutes away from having to play nice with one of the only people who had survived seeing one of the worst moments of his life. 

“Copy that,” he said instead of voicing any of these insecurities. Boba felt as Din began to land the ship. 

_Din._ Honestly, Boba could not overstate how relieved he was that Din had never tried to joke about the sarlacc. _That’s the reason I’m marrying him and not Fennec_ , Boba thought with a huff. 

Well. Technically they had already married later that morning after a very involved makeout session, and then another very involved session or two in their bunk, but the wedding party wasn’t happening until they had Grogu back. 

The only reason Boba had agreed to go on this stupid trip was because Din asked him to, and it meant he’d get to see Grogu again sooner than usual. He would keep quiet behind his helmet, do his best not to pick a fight with his riduur’s friend and his ad’ika’s mentor, and hopefully convince Din to go home early. Maybe he could get Grogu to agree to play sick. 

_Ka’ra_ , he missed the little womp rat. Boba couldn’t wait to show the kid the shiny new vambrace he had sitting pretty on his forearm. 

_I bet he’s going to try and chew on it_ , Boba thought, doing his best to focus on the good things. 

***

“Does that ship look familiar to you?” Han said, squinting down the launch pad. He felt Chewie shift uncertainty behind him. Luke swayed gently with the child while Leia held herself steadfast to Han’s right. It was a beautiful afternoon full of gently shifting tree branches and blessedly low humidity. Well, low for Yavin IV at least. Still, something felt off. 

“Yeah,” Luke said, smiling. “That’s one of Din’s ships. He doesn’t always use the same ship, but he’s brought it here a few times before.” The little green bundle in his arms shrieked with excitement. Luke’s face melted as he took a moment to coo at it. He looked back at Han with what was somehow an even _bigger_ smile. “I think this one is his favorite.”

Han sighed. “Sure, Luke. I just have a bad feeling about this.”

Han chanced a look to his left, warily watching the way his wife’s mouth thinned in a grimace. “No, I think Han’s right. That ship does look familiar.”

“And it’s not exactly a common model,” Han continued. 

Chewie rumbled in agreement. 

The toddler— and kriff if he wasn’t an odd looking little thing— interrupted them, squealing in delight as it tried to wiggle out of Luke’s hold. 

“Okay, okay,” his friend laughed. “Don’t worry, we’ll see your dad in a minute. 

Luke set the kid on the ground and it immediately set off stumbling down towards the landing pad, its little three-fingered hands outstretched towards the ship. Luke followed with easy strides while Han, Leia, and Chewie proceeded slower. 

“I don’t know where I recognize that ship from,” Leia said under her breath. 

“Me neither,” Han admitted. “But Luke did mention the little green kid’s dad was some kind of bounty hunter in the Outer Rim, so it makes sense that I might’ve seen it before.” Han felt something twitch in his stomach nervously. “I just don’t know why you would recognize it.”

Chewie stayed quiet while Leia hummed, thinking. 

Han knew it was important to Luke that he and Leia met this bounty hunter— Din, he thinks he’s called, or was it Lin?— and that Luke wanted them to all get along, but Han wasn’t so sure. There was a reason Leia had wanted to leave their son at home today instead of taking him to visit his uncle and this ‘new friend,’ and Han wasn’t one to ignore his wife’s instincts. 

_The kid seems nice enough_ , Han thought. Surely someone evil wouldn’t have raised such a sweet little… creature. 

Look, Han was trying. The fifty year old baby thing was mildly freaking him out. But, Luke was a good man, and one of his closest friends, so Han was trying to put his best foot forward. And maybe he hadn’t paid much attention while Luke was telling him about meeting— Din? Yeah, Din— but to be fair, Han’s own son had been glaring at him from the top of the stairs for the entire conversation, which had been a little more concerning than Luke’s rambling. Ben liked to shoot things at him with the force as soon as Han took his eyes off the kid. It was very annoying. His son had despicably good aim. 

…Han was maybe a tiny bit proud. 

But anyway. Best foot forward. 

“That green kid’s tiny though,” Han said, trying to lighten the mood. “There’s no way that bounty hunter is gonna be more than three feet tall.”

Chewie growled something about being careful with his assumptions while Leia rolled her eyes. “I guess we’re about to see,” she said, pointing at the opening ship door. 

_Do not immediately laugh in the short bounty hunter’s face_ , Han reminded himself as they stopped below the ship. _That would piss him off, which will make Luke very sad, and then Leia will be angry._ Han summoned a truly heroic amount of self control and stifled the laugh bubbling up in his chest as he imagined a slightly taller version of the toddler struggling to lift a blaster. _Do not laugh!_

The door finished opening. Six feet of shining armor stepped out. _Huh,_ Han thought with a daze, _guess that means the kid’s gonna hit a growth spurt soon._

“Din!” Luke said happily. “I’m so glad you made it!”

The bounty hunter ignored Luke, dropping to the ground and opening his arms wide while the kid shot into his hold as quick as his little feet could take him. The man hugged the child to his chest tightly before gently tapping his helmet against its tiny forehead. 

He said something softly to the toddler in a language that immediately slammed memories of cramped cantinas and overpriced jobs, and oh, oh the _armor_ , of _course_ , Han was a fekking _idiot._

“Oh kriff Leia,” Han said, making a face. “That’s a Mandalorian. Did Luke tell us he was a Mando?”

“He absolutely did,” she confirmed. Han made another face. 

Great. Now Chewie was laughing at him. 

The Mando finally stood up and acknowledged Luke, the child tucked securely in his arms. “Luke,” he said almost warmly. “It’s good to see you.” He then nodded towards Han, Leia, and Chewie. “And you as well.”

“Yeah!” Luke rocked forward on his feet as he spoke. “I’m really looking forward to everyone meeting each other; it’s gonna go great. I figured we could talk, check in on the younglings— I even started a stew earlier we could have for dinner!” 

Ah. It was nice to see Luke so enthusiastic again. Leia leaned into Han’s shoulder, easing at the excitement on her twin’s face. 

“And I know you don’t like to eat in front of strangers, so don’t feel obligated to! We have a guest bedroom you can go into whenever you like. Feel free to stay the night here too; I know it’s not exactly the quickest trip.”

“I— thank you,” the Mandalorian stuttered out in the face of Luke’s word vomit. “But, I uh. I actually brought somebody else with me.” The kid burst into excited chirping, causing the man to bounce it softly. 

“Oh!” Luke said, startled, and then shrugged. “That’s fine! Who are they?”

“He’s my husband.”

Ok. So two Mandalorian bounty hunters. Great. Han hoped the second one was as uninterested in collecting his outstanding Outer Rim warrants as the first Mando was. 

Luke was beside himself. “Grogu mentioned you had a partner, but I had no idea you were married!” he gasped. “That’s great!” 

“It’s. New,” the Mando mumbled, pulling the kid closer. 

“That’s even more great!”

“Congratulations,” Leia said cooly. Han looked over at her. Her face was getting more reserved by the second. 

“Leia?” he said softly. She shook her head, her hand creeping down towards the blaster she still kept at her hip and oh, Han did not like that. 

“I’m excited to meet him,” Luke said pleasantly. 

“We’ve already met,” growled a new voice from within the ship, oh _kriff_ whoever Han had been imagining would step off that ship, it was absolutely not the man he had really, really hoped he had murdered seven years ago. 

“Skywalker,” Boba Fett said, every inch of dented, scuffed armor vibrating in menace. “I’ve heard you’ve been tutoring our son.”

***

Alright. That had been a little bit more of a dramatic entrance than Din was expecting. He honestly couldn’t tell if Boba did that on purpose, or if he was just anxious. 

Din watched the way Boba’s fist tightened, the left one trembling slightly. Ah. At least a little bit anxious then. 

Boba took a deep, steadying breath. His shoulders were a straight, tense line that only broke when Grogu began to babble at him from Din’s arms. “Ad’ika,” Boba breathed, turning his entire body away from Luke and towards their child in order to give Grogu his fullest attention. 

Din glanced back at the Jetii. Luke was staring at them with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging slightly open. Din scrunched his brow under his helmet. That was odd. Din had never seen Luke make that face before. 

“Um—”

“Hold on,” Din said, cutting Luke off. Grogu was trying to crawl out of his arms and into Boba’s, and there was no way Din was going to risk dropping him. 

“I really think—”

“He said wait a minute,” Boba growled as Grogu accidentally whacked a small hand against his helmet in excitement during the transfer. 

Din heard a strangled “Is that who I think it is?!” from somewhere in the background as he was finally able to get Grogu situated against Boba’s chest. _There,_ he thought, pleased. That should help settle Boba, which would then in turn help settle Din. The two of them standing all keyed up in front of a ship equipped with several very large weapons was probably not a great way to make a good impression with Luke’s rapidly paling twin sister and rather angry looking brother-in-law, not to mention the well-armed Wookie. With Boba quickly distracted by their child, Din turned back to Luke to try and scramble for some sort of semi-polite introduction. Luke stopped him before he could begin. 

“Din,” Luke said, now alarmingly calm. “Why is Boba Fett standing behind you?”

“Oh,” Din said, blinking. “That would be because he’s my husband,” he said very matter of factly. Luke’s eye twitched. Din paused, and then: “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

There was a sharp laugh from Luke’s brother-in-law, who stepped forward towards the base of the ship’s landing dock with a blaster drawn. “ _Know_ each other? That bastard froze me in carbonite!” 

Ah. So introductions definitely weren’t going as well as Din had hoped they would. 

“Right,” he started. “Well. Very sorry about that—”

“Is that Han kriffing Solo?!” Boba yelled, breaking what little sense of calm Grogu had given him upon noticing the other people on the launch pad. “What’s that bastard doing here?!”

Boba, apparently deciding very quickly that the bastard’s answer didn’t actually matter, immediately drew a blaster in his left hand to shoot Luke’s brother-in-law while balancing their son with his right. 

The other man— Solo, Din supposed— took another step forward, aiming his blaster higher. _Here we go,_ Din thought, quickly cycling through the five stages of grief before drawing a blaster of his own. The woman and the Wookie raised their weapons as well. 

“Stop it!” Luke yelled, using his Force-osik to yank Boba and Han’s blasters from their hands. “We do not fire blasters around the baby!”

Boba scoffed, pulling out another blaster. “Solo drew his first. And the kid’s seen plenty of firefights before.” Din had to admit that both of those things were true, actually. 

Luke yanked Boba’s blaster away again. “Well he’s not seeing one today,” Luke hissed. 

“Then tell Solo to put his blaster away too!”

“I already took his— oh, Sithhells,” Luke groaned, confusion melting into annoyance as he noticed that Solo had also very quickly procured a second blaster. “Han. C’mon, man.”

“Absolutely not. Luke, that’s Boba Fett.”

Luke turned towards him, presumably to make some sort of wide-eyed, pleading face. Boba took the moment to lean towards Din and speak to him quietly under his breath. 

“As much as I hate to agree with the guy, Skywalker might have had a point about trying not to fight in front of Grogu.” Din nodded, relieved. After two years of lessons, Grogu was far less likely now to Force-strangle adults that he knew, even if they were fighting. But Din wasn’t particularly keen on testing that today, not with tensions running so high. Besides, the kid was very obviously unhappy seeing his family fight. Din did not like the way he was beginning to scrunch up his nose, his mouth twitching unhappily. 

That face alone seemed to make Boba’s decision. “We should end this,” his partner sighed. Then he promptly dropped the toddler into Din’s arms. Grogu squawked, surprised. “Din, would you mind taking Grogu into the ship while I kill Han Solo?”

Din felt the five stages of grief begin again. “That’s— no! And I’m not leaving you in the middle of a firefight with Luke, who is a _Jedi,_ and some random guy who hates you—” he began to furiously whisper, but apparently their conversation had not been as quiet as they thought. How Luke’s twin had managed to hear them from all the way down the landing dock was a mystery known only to the Force. 

“Try killing him, and we’ll shoot you and the Mando. I don’t care if Luke likes him,” Solo’s wife said coldly. Din felt Grogu stiffen in his arms, and Boba take a sharp breath next to him. 

“What she said!” Solo yelled. 

The Wookie wailed in agreement.

“Guys,” Luke groaned, “Din’s a good man; please don’t shoot him. It’s just Fett I’m worried about—”

The Wookie interrupted Luke with an aggravated howl while Luke’s sister kept a steady aim with her blaster. Din eyed Luke’s lightsaber clip warily, and looked back at Boba, considering. If Luke didn’t have his lightsaber out then maybe things weren’t as dire as Din feared. He looked down at Grogu, and made the snap decision to reholstered his blaster. The child was clearly reaching the end of his patience, although Grogu had lasted longer than Din had expected. He supposed this meant Luke’s meditative training really was working. _One more reason we need to get back on his good side,_ Din resolved grimly. 

Still. The kid didn’t deserve to see all this tension, not on a day that was supposed to be fun for him. Din looked down at his son’s wobbly dark eyes. That was it. Din was taking control of the situation. 

“Ok, I guess I get why Solo wants to kill you— he’s an old bounty. But why do you want to kill Luke’s brother-in-law?” Din said, bouncing Grogu slightly as he spoke. 

Boba looked startled. “What— because that’s the bastard that shoved me into the sarlacc pit! And because he’s still got a blaster pointed at us.” 

Ah. So Din had officially lost control of the situation again. “Luke will handle that last part, but— you fell into a sarlacc pit?” 

Solo was indignant. “You wouldn’t have been knocked in there if you weren’t trying to kill— wait, did that Mando next to you just say he didn’t know you fell into a sarlacc pit?” he said, cutting off his yelling in confusion. “Everybody knows that,” Solo said, squinting. “I tell that story all the time. It was all over the Holonews.” 

Boba also stopped, his shoulders dropping and helmet twitching to the side in bafflement. “Wait. Did you not know I was eaten by a sarlacc?”

“No?” 

“Where did you think I got all those scars from?”

Din shrugged. “It seemed impolite to ask.”

“Did you not know Fett tried to kill us before today?” Now it was Luke’s sister’s turn to be confused. 

“Why would I know that? He tries to kill a lot of people.” Honestly, asking Din to remember all the people who his riduur had either killed or tried to kill was just too much. He didn’t know why anyone would expect that of him. Din couldn’t even remember half of the people he himself had shot at, and he doubted that the other three weren’t the same. “I don’t even know who you are,” Din said with a squint. 

Luke made a sad face. Din softened ever so slightly. “Well, I know you’re Luke’s sister and that’s your husband. But other than that, I don’t know who you two are.”

“That’s— we’re Leia Organa and Han Solo. We helped defeat the Empire. We were a huge part of the rebellion; we were generals. It was all very public,” Organa said, her brow twisted. 

“That’s great?” Din said, still confused. What was he supposed to say? News spread slowly on the Outer Rim, and anything happening in the Core rarely affected them. Din knew the Emperor was dead and a new government had been installed, not that they were particularly active around where he lived. He was also pretty sure Luke had something to do with the end of the Empire, but just like with Boba’s scars, Din hadn’t asked. But, seeing the situation he was in right now, maybe Din had better start asking the people in his life some more personal questions. 

Boba snorted at the disgruntled look on Organa’s face. _Well, at least he’s easing up,_ Din thought _._ Grogu seemed to be slowly beginning to relax again too. 

“And now we’re major players for the New Republic,” Solo continued. “Especially Leia,” he said proudly. Din had a feeling Solo couldn’t care less about any government position he might personally hold, but he did seem genuinely happy for his wife. 

Boba ignored the man to focus back on Din. “I can’t believe you didn’t know this stuff,” he said with a huff. “ _Everyone_ knows. It made intergalactic news.”

“Boba,” Din said with a sigh, “when have you ever seen me read intergalactic news?”

“...Osik.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t _care_ if your husband didn’t know; you should still be under arrest for— just, like, everything,” Solo said, crossing his arms petulantly. Organa nodded in agreement. 

Grogu shot Solo a betrayed look. That brought Din’s hand free hand down towards the darksaber quicker than anything else. Boba just laughed at the other man’s words, and leaned over to rub a hand reassuringly between their child’s ears. “Sure, good luck with that. No way our crew wouldn’t bust me out.”

“Not if we kill you they won’t,” Organa said darkly. The child, finally having enough, shrieked in dismay, causing Organa’s face to slip. 

“It’s okay!” Luke said, holding his hands up. “Grogu, it’s okay; no ones killing anyone today.” Din tucked the child tightly against his chest as he shifted closer to Boba. 

“That better be true,” Din said lowly. 

“It’s okay,” Luke continued, still trying to soothe the toddler. “It’s okay, we just had a— a simple misunderstanding. We’re going to talk it all out.” With that, Luke surveyed the aggravated adults surrounding him, his face tight. They all radiated tension. “Maybe we could continue this discussion inside, _without_ our weapons drawn, while I get Grogu a bowl of stew?”

“No,” Boba said, tugging on Din’s arm as he stepped backwards towards the ship’s still open door. “We’re leaving. This isn’t what I expected when I agreed to stop by and play nice with Skywalker.” He jerked his head towards Organa’s husband. “I knew Solo had married some high ranking official; I had no idea that official was Skywalker’s kriffing sister.”

“I’m not just an official— don’t forget that I’m a general too,” she said, baring her teeth in a vicious grin. 

“Look, Din, Fett,” Luke said with a sigh. “I don’t feel comfortable leaving one of my students with someone who tried to kill all of us last time we saw him, not without at _least_ having a conversation about it.”

“Your _student_ ?” Boba said with a hiss. “He’s _our_ son! He can come back to class once we feel that he’s safe with _you_.”

Din chewed at his lip under his helmet. Maybe Boba was right. Maybe they should just go. But then Grogu let out a low warble, his ears wilting. Boba stared at him for several seconds before letting the tension bleed from his shoulders with a defeated sigh. Din understood. Luke was, at the end of the day, someone their son cared about, and the only available teacher for his powers. They couldn’t afford to fight him, not really. Despite whatever had happened in the past, Grogu was what was most important now. 

Din tilted his head towards Boba, indicating that the final decision was still his call. 

“Fine,” Boba grumbled, briefly glaring at Solo before turning towards Luke in agreement. “Kriff them. Let's get the kid some soup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch me on tumblr @sunshine-bats


	3. Revenge as a Family Friendly Affair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was gone for a month and a half; I’ve been busy with school and work, and this chapter fought me nearly the entire time I was writing it rip. So enjoy an extra long chapter since I made y’all wait!
> 
> 3/10/21 Note: I rewrote parts of a few of the scenes in this chapter after going back to edit the story as a whole. I’m sorry if I changed some of your favorite lines, but I’m hoping this version will better balance different characters’ emotions and portrayals :^) 
> 
> Mando’a:  
> Riduur- partner, in this case husband  
> Ad’ika- child  
> Osik- shit  
> Ka’ra- stars

The walk back to Skywalker's home was tense and awkward. Boba hated the way Solo and Organa marched behind him, hated thinking about them watching and whispering about the angry set of his shoulders. At least he could keep an eye on Skywalker as he led their group through the new temple grounds. Still, focusing on Skywalker did nothing to dim his awareness of the curious eyes of passerbyers following them. It seemed this temple was not nearly as isolated as the old one on Coruscant, and there were plenty of people around to watch Skywalker and his lot lead Boba and his family towards one of the many two-story wooden buildings adorning the little grove. Very few of their audience wore Jedi robes. 

The heart of the new Jedi Order must have seemed like one of the safest places to resettle after decades of the Empire’s reign, and it appeared that Skywalker had not closed his doors to those seeking protection. Boba was sure this was one of the several reasons Din admired the other man. If Boba was in a better mood, then perhaps he would have felt some measure of respect as well. The grounds here were colorful, well lived in, well loved. He could grudgingly see why Grogu liked it so much. 

Still. Boba could do without everyone’s gawking. Eyes followed them down the dirt path, curious gazes peering out of hastily constructed buildings. He wasn’t sure what was worse: the groups of people who grew quiet as they walked past, or those whose whispering only grew louder. Seeing two Mandalorians being silently marched through the center of the grounds by rebel war heroes would do nothing good for the rumor mill. Boba tightened his jaw. The whole situation left him feeling wrong footed and vulnerable in a way that left him indescribably uncomfortable. 

A hand fell on Boba’s shoulder and he flinched. _It’s only Din_ , he tried to soothe himself. _It’s just Din._

The other man gave him a concerned head tilt, pausing before nodding, questioning, down at Grogu. Boba felt his heart ache at the worried look the kid was aiming at him, and immediately opened his arms for Din to press the child back into Boba’s chest. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly. Din only nodded again, seemingly lost deep in thought. He kept a hand on Boba’s arm as they continued to walk forward. 

Boba ran a finger repeatedly up and down the kid’s ear, doing his best to calm both himself and his child. He hadn’t expected to react so strongly to seeing Solo again, and was already finding the whole event to be exhausting. Boba’s pep talk back in the ship had been to steel himself to see Skywalker, not anyone else from their little rebel crew. Solo’s presence had completely thrown him for a loop. 

The child slowly began to ease against Boba. He let out a soft breath. Everything was going to be fine because it had to be. Anything less than fine would upset the kid, and that was unacceptable. 

Boba heard someone huff from behind him. _Solo,_ he sighed internally. What a kriffing mess. 

“We’re almost there,” Skywalker reassured them. “Just a few more turns, and then we’ll have somewhere private to talk.”

The child gave a concerned warble from where he had nestled himself against Boba’s armor. 

Skywalker glanced over his shoulder to offer the little one a tired grin. “Yes, and then we can get you that soup too.”

Grogu let a pleased chirp. Boba continued to rub gently at his son’s ear, causing his chirping to melt into a happy little rumble. Boba watched his eyes fall half-closed, content. His ears bounced gently under his hand as they continued to walk. 

Solo grumbled behind him again, annoyed. Boba felt his shoulders get impossibly more tense, and tried to focus solely on the dirt path below his feet and the warm bundle in his arms. Din pressed closer to his side. 

“Luke’s right,” Din said quietly. “I recognize this area. We’ll be there shortly.”

_And then what?_ Part of Boba wanted to snap, but it wasn’t worth it. Whatever was about to happen would happen, and it wasn’t like Din had any more say in this than Boba. 

Besides, no matter what went down, it would end with Boba, Din, and their child all back on their ship. Boba had no doubt that Din wouldn’t fight with him for that if it became necessary. 

For Grogu’s sake he hoped it wouldn’t, but if Solo shot first, well, Boba wouldn’t exactly be distraught about having to fire back. 

“We’re here!” Skywalker said, interrupting Boba’s train of thought. The man had led them to a modest, sturdy looking building with a well-worn welcome mat at the door. The exterior wood was only partially sanded, seeming to be as quickly put together as the rest of the buildings. A child’s ball and a few stray toys lay scattered in the few half-trampled plants that had been haphazardly placed before the walls. 

The building looked especially small sitting in the shadow of the larger one next store. Boba could only assume this was the main temple where Skywalker was teaching however many younglings had been entrusted to him. It had none of the grandiose of the temples Boba had seen before, but it seemed to somehow suit the other man. 

“I would, uh, appreciate it if no one shot each other inside my house. I just repainted the walls,” Skywalker said wryly as he opened the door. 

“We’ll do our best,” Din said seriously from Boba’s side. 

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Solo said with an eye roll. Boba felt Din tense at the ex-smuggler’s comment.

“Then don’t be worried,” Boba said, forcing his words to come out relaxed. “I have no interest in scuffing Skywalker’s new decor with a blaster bolt.”

Solo gwaffed. “You literally _just_ tried to shoot me less than ten minutes ago.”

Boba shrugged. “That was outside.” And then, just to annoy him: “Besides, it was nothing personal.”

Solo’s threw his hands wide in exasperation. “It was _incredibly_ personal! It was a _personal_ _vendetta_!” 

_Oh, this was too easy._ “Well, don’t think too highly of yourself.”

Organa cut off her husband’s sputtering before he could continue. “Can we please just go inside?” She asked pointedly. Solo groaned. 

“I just want to say for the record that I think this is a bad idea,” her husband complained as he pushed through the door. She sighed as she followed him though. Skywalker grinned helplessly as his twin snagged his arm and pulled him in behind her. 

Din took the moment to steady his hands against Boba’s frame, tilting his helmet close so that they could speak softly. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing off his riduur’s concern. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Din continued to stare at him through his helmet, his bucket held at the angle he only kept when he was concerned. Boba felt jittery under his gaze. 

“C’mon,” he pushed, stepping forward so he no longer had to meet his look. “Let’s go.”

***

This was not how Din was hoping family day would go. Solo was agitated, Organa was annoyed, Luke’s smile was tense, the Wookie had somehow found another blaster, and Boba wasn’t hiding his stress nearly as well as he thought he was. Grogu, at least, seemed to have settled down some. Din tried to stay as close to the pair as possible as Luke led them into the main room.

Yellow walls with a variety of pinned pictures and drawings hovered over a plush green couch. Beside it was a sturdy looking rocking chair, two bookcases, and a large wooden table pushed into the center of the room. Din noticed a few more stray toys matching the ones left by the doorstep, and a boot-scuffed floor. Din felt part of himself start to unwind in the familiar space. 

“Here, you guys can make yourselves comfortable while I go get Grogu some stew, and then we can talk,” Luke said, gesturing towards the table. Din reached a hand back to gently tug Boba to a pair of empty chairs, but found him immovable. Din frowned, looking back at Boba who only shook his head and tilted his helmet towards Luke’s family. 

Din’s mood quickly began to sour again when he saw the faces the other trio were making at them. No wonder Boba was hesitant to sit. It was just— look, Din understood there was some bad blood there. But the trio had also agreed to sit and have this conversation, so they might as well take Luke’s advice and get comfortable. Besides, it wasn’t like any of them hadn’t worked with old enemies before. He highly doubted Boba was their first adversary turned hesitant ally. Allegiances changed quickly in the galaxy, especially in the aftermath of the Empire. Why did this particular meeting have to be so tense for them? 

So what if he and Boba had drawn their weapons at them? They’d drawn their weapons too! Plus, most of Din’s closest friendships were with people who had tried to shoot him first. If he had a problem with attempted murder, then he’d need to get an entirely new friend group, which was something very difficult to do at his age. 

The three continued to glower. Boba continued to stand very still at Din’s side, which was… well, it was more concerning than Din wanted to admit. The other man had been so distant during the walk from their ship to Luke’s home. Not even holding Grogu seemed to help fully ground him. 

But then again, they were sharing a table with the man who helped give Boba the majority of his scars. Din understood it likely happened during a job the man did for the Empire, and that it was very possible that Solo and his friends held the moral high ground during the fight, but that didn’t take away from the pain they still caused his partner. 

And Boba was a _good_ partner. He took care of them, loved them, made time for the two of them and their friends—

Maybe Boba wasn’t always a good man, but he was a good riduur, and an even better buir. He’d helped rescue Din’s child from the Empire when he could have just turned around and left. That had to speak to his character and the new leaf he was turning over at least somewhat. 

Boba was still radiating discomfort next to him. He held his arms around Grogu as if he was trying to hide him from view. It made Din’s chest ache. 

Even if Boba was doing a fairly good job at disguising his distress from Solo, the Wookie, and Organa, he couldn’t hide it from Din, and Din hated seeing him so clearly unsettled. Din was suddenly struck by the urge to grab Boba and Grogu and push them out the door. If just being near Solo was enough to upset his partner this much, then maybe having both of them here for this conversation wasn’t the right move. 

_That would make me a hypocrite though_ , Din thought with a sigh. And Boba would hate to not be included in a conversation about him and their son. Din wouldn’t take that decision from him. 

Din turned to try to gently reach out to him one more time when Boba sighed, and finally gave in to the tension surrounding the dining table. Boba kicked a chair out before promptly dropping into it. 

“Are you guys gonna pick a spot or just keep staring?” Boba asked the group dryly. Grogu cooed, hands reaching up towards the bottom of Boba’s helmet. “Not yet,” he murmured. “The food’s not here yet.” Grogu blew a raspberry before settling back down on Boba's lap. Part of Din wanted to laugh, but the rest of him still felt a bit raw from his realization of just how badly Solo’s presence had upset Boba. 

The other three took their time choosing where to sit. Organa and Solo hesitantly picked a place across the table while the Wookie chose to stand, his blaster still in full view. Solo opened his mouth, only to close it quickly after a sharp look from Organa. Sheepishly, he started again. 

“So,” the man started somewhat awkwardly. “You guys have a kid together. That’s… that’s uh. That’s cool.”

Boba did not seem impressed with this. Going by the twitch of her brow, Organa also seemed unamused by her husband’s conversation opener. 

“Yes,” Boba sighed. “We have a kid together. I thought that was obvious.” 

Solo shrugged. “It’s not wearing any armor, so I wasn’t really sure.”

“He’s not an _it_ ,” Boba said coolly. He’s our _son_.” Din felt something hot in his stomach begin to burn.

Solo blinked. “Right, sure.” He leaned forward, twisting his mouth. “But I definitely don’t remember you looking like that under the helmet, so—”

“He’s our foundling,” Din cut in, voice dropping low. Boba twisted his arms tighter around the quickly disgruntled child, pulling him taunt against his chest. “And that makes him our son by the creed.” 

“Of course,” Organa said. “And I’m sure his armor will come later.” 

Solo narrowed his eyes, looking over Boba and their child. “His gear’s not gonna look like your’s, right? Because I’m not sure the galaxy can deal with a second Fett, even if the new one’s only about as tall as a ration bar or two.”

And that— it wasn’t the _worst_ thing he could have said, but Din has felt the slight _twitch_ that went through Boba at Solo’s words. He felt his own anger begin to heat into something more dangerous before he noticed the slight twist to Solo’s mouth, and stopped dead. _He’s trying to provoke us,_ Din thought, dazed. _What kind of idiot—?_

Solo just stared at him, dark eyes amused as he leaned back in his chair. 

_Well kriff that_ , Din thought, standing up from his chair. This was stupid. He was going to go find Luke, tell him to go collect his wayward friend— only to feel his chair hit something as he shoved it aside. Something that was soft and squishy that yelped upon impact, and then promptly sent _another_ something that was disgustingly hot and wet all across his back. 

“Luke,” Organa said, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth as the tension broke with a wet _splat_. “Just in time.”

“Oh Force, Din, I’m so sorry,” Luke babbled behind the chair. “I just spilled all of Grogu’s stew down your armor.” 

Din was frozen. He could feel Boba was shaking next to him. “I’m— I’m sure he doesn’t mind,” Boba said in between breaths, and oh, thank the stars, he was just laughing at him. Din felt a surge of _relief_ run through him as Boba began to relax slightly at the sight of his husband covered in soup, but it was still rude. Din could feel broth seeping in between the beskar plates. It was uncomfortably damp. 

Din made a face under his helmet as he felt Luke begin to frantically blot at his back with what Din hoped was one of Luke’s less expensive cloaks. 

He slowly looked over his shoulder. Oh no. It was one of the expensive ones. Kriff, Din was going to feel bad about that later. 

“Luke,” Solo said, laughing. “I can’t believe— Maker, Skywalker, you just poured the kid’s lunch all over some of the most expensive armor in the galaxy.” 

Din whipped his head back around to glare at Solo again under his bucket. Just because Boba was allowed to laugh didn’t mean Solo was. The Wookie was laughing too, but there wasn’t anything Din could really do about that. He was a kriffing Wookie. 

And besides, his armor has been through way worse than soup before. He’d cleaned Grogu’s puke up with his cape before, after all. 

He’d also been swallowed by a krayt dragon. But it was the puke that he remembered first. 

“Oh, shove off Han,” Luke said, radiating embarrassment. He finally stopped trying to clean Din off, and stepped into Din’s field of view. “And I really am sorry,” he said. “I swear my Aunt taught me to treat guests better than this.”

“It’s fine,” Din said stiffly. Boba snorted. 

“And Han!” Luke said, face tilting into a grumpy frown. “Just because you didn’t grow up with Aunt Beru teaching you how to host doesn’t mean you should try and insult guests at my dinner table.” 

The Wookie shoved a paw into Solo’s hair, barking out something mock-scoldingly, as if he hadn’t been part of it as well. 

Solo held up his hands. “Hey, easy, easy! I meant nothing by it.” He cocked his head at Boba, and then immediately kicked the tension back up. “You just never struck me much as a teamwork sort of guy, much less the fatherly sort.”

_I will not punch Han Solo. I will not punch Han Solo. I will not punch—_

“Han!” Luke snapped. 

“What?” Solo said, and Din was really starting to understand why he got on Boba’s nerves. How did someone so profoundly _annoying_ help destroy the Empire? 

Grogu gave an upset huff at Solo’s tone, and borrowed his face back against Boba’s chest plate. Boba tilted his head down until the bottom of his helmet rested just above their son’s head, giving him a place to hide from prying eyes. Grogu curled closer as Boba gently rocked him once, twice, three times— 

_I might be about to punch Han Solo._

Apparently he was not the only person who felt that way was as Luke quickly scrambled forwards, hands half raised in surrender. 

“Okay, everybody, please don’t punch my best friend in the nose. Han, please don’t say things that make everybody want to punch you in the nose.” Solo sputtered while Din continued to glower. “I think maybe we all need a minute.” 

Solo stared at Luke. “Are you giving me a timeout?” 

“I am giving _everyone_ a timeout, me included, because otherwise I’m about to say something very rude,” Luke amended. “Also, there’s nothing wrong with timeouts! It’s a great way to move away from overstimulating environments into someplace quiet to sit and process your emotions so you can make informed decisions about what you want to do next. I take timeouts for myself when I’m teaching all the time.” 

Solo blinked at Luke. Din was sure Boba was making a face under his helmet. The Wookie gave an amused grunt while Organa massaged her temple. 

Luke did not seem embarrassed at all. “Timeouts are not a punishment, they are a tool.”

Organa looked over the group and sighed. “He’s been reading a lot of parenting books recently.”

“I don’t _just_ read books,” Luke complained. 

“I know.” If anything, Organa looked even more exhausted. “You also go to that mom’s knitting circle for parenting advice.”

Luke blushed. “They’re helping me learn how to make a scarf too.”

With one final annoyed glance towards Solo and the Wookie, Din decided Luke might unfortunately be right. Besides, Boba had been too quiet after Solo’s last comment. He wanted to check on him. “We would appreciate a moment, actually. If you could show us that guest room you mentioned earlier?” he said, letting the sentence drift off. 

Luke blinked. “Oh, of course!” He turned down the hall. “It’s just through here.”

***

Boba felt his shoulders finally begin to loosen once Skywalker left to corral his friends back towards the kitchen, leaving Din, Boba, and Grogu by themselves for a moment in front of the guest bedroom. Boba kept his grip on the child tight as Din gently ushered him inside. 

Boba was completely unprepared for the crushing embrace Din pulled him into, Grogu squeaking between them. Din shoved the front of his helmet against Boba’s bucket, a shaky breath just barely escaping from under Din’s helm. 

“I’m sorry,” Din said, curling close. 

Boba hummed as he settled against him, leaning back just enough to give the kid space while still keeping his helmet pressed firmly against Din’s. “For what?”

“For Solo, and for bringing you here,” Din mumbled. “I knew you didn’t want to come, but I thought I was doing the right thing.” He sighed again. “I should have asked why you didn’t want to be around Luke. I just assumed you hated the Jedi.”

“I do hate the Jedi.” Grogu pulled insistently at Boba’s chestplate. “I hate most Jedi,” he amended. “The Jedi and the Fetts don’t exactly have a great family history.” 

“If you want to tell me about it—”

“Not here,” Boba said, cutting him off. That story didn’t feel safe to share here, not when there was a lightsaber sitting pretty on Skywalker’s hip just a few scarce rooms away and Solo waiting at the dinner table. “But once we’re all back home— well. I wouldn’t mind talking about it then.” 

On the ship, maybe, where Boba could point out all the places he used to sit with his father before Windu sent him marching away. Boba hadn’t said anything before, just assumed Din would know everything, because how could anyone not? His history was displayed on every painted inch of his armor, every dent, every line on his face, every winding scar. And it hurt, that Din didn’t know, but Boba had never told him, and now— 

Now Din was asking. Now Din wanted to listen. Maybe had always wanted to listen, based on the way he was still cradling Boba long after the perceived danger had passed. 

“I’d like to tell you about it,” Boba reaffirmed. Their child cooed. 

“Alright,” Din said, taking a moment to rub Grogu’s head sweetly before drawing back. “When we get home, I’ll make us some food—”

“You’re a terrible cook; I’ll make us food,” Boba grinned, falling back into a familiar repertoire. 

“No, it’s going to be your day off,” Din said with a huff. “So I’ll make us some food, and Peli can babysit, and then we can lay down and I’ll stay and listen to anything you want me to know for as long as it takes for you to tell.”

“And after that?” Boba said, slightly breathless from the warmth creeping up from his chest and into his throat. 

“And after that we’re dive bombing every sarlacc pit on Tatooine.”

Boba felt like his heart could burst. “I love you,” he said, knocking his helmet back against Din’s. 

“I love you too,” Din said warmly. 

“Also, you still smell like soup.” 

Din groaned, and the child squeaked again, tired of being held. Boba crouched to the floor, pulling out a small toy tooka from his pocket before setting the squirming little kid onto the ground. Grogu snatched it quickly from his hand, chirping happily as he began to wander around the small room. Din laughed. 

“You’re so soft on him,” he teased. Boba rolled his eyes as he rose, sure that Din knew what he was doing even behind the bucket. 

“Like you don’t have two of his favorites tucked into one of your pouches,” he accused, crossing his arms playfully. 

Din only shrugged. “They’re for emergencies.”

“Of course they are,” Boba said dryly. Din snorted. 

The air began to become more serious again the longer the two stared at each other. Din broke the quiet with a sigh. 

“I can’t help you kill Solo, even though I agree with you that he’s an ass,” Din said, and Boba knew that, of course he knew that. It still wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but if this is what they needed to keep their son safe, then it wasn’t much of a decision at all. “But even if we can’t kill him, we can still make his life miserable.”

“We?” Boba asked, tilting his head. 

Din nodded. “Yes, we. I’m trying to be a supportive husband.” 

Boba let out a short laugh. “By helping me torture my most annoying enemy?”

Din cocked his head for a moment, actually thinking over the prospect before inevitably shooting it down. “I’m not sure Luke will let us get away with torture.”

Boba knew that, but he had to at least try. “Ok, well, in that case, I’m open to other suggestions.”

Din tilted his head back, but before he could begin to speak, an excited squeak cut him off. The two parents zeroed in on the sound quickly, their helmets snapping to attention at the sound of their child’s giggling. 

Boba furrowed his brow behind his bucket. “Gro’ika? Where the hells did you get all that finger paint?”

The little boy chirped, clearly pleased with himself despite the mess he’d manage to make in the two minutes he was left unsupervised. Hot pink paint stained his hands and the front of his little robe. The paint flecking his face seemed to spread further with every twitch of his grin. 

Din sighed. “Luke leaves packages of it everywhere. He wants to encourage the kids to be creative.”

Boba weary eyed the paint dripping on the floor. “And he couldn’t have remembered to leave them some flimsi?”

“Apparently, ‘the world is their canvas,’” Din quoted bitterly. 

Boba snorted. He idly wondered if becoming a force sensitive kindergarten teacher changed Skywalker, or if the young Jedi had always been such a mother tooka. Talking about parenting books, knitting, and how to encourage creativity in young space wizards hardly seemed to match up with the intimidating performance he had put on at Jabba’s palace. Hidden depths and all that, Boba supposed. 

That didn’t mean he suddenly _liked_ him, of course. Just that maybe he disliked Skywalker less than Solo. That wasn’t a big deal. Most sentients in the galaxy were more likeable than Solo. It was nothing to write home about. 

Boba shifted back to the conversation at hand.“I bet cleaning is a joy in the Temple.”

“You have no idea,” Din said, haunted. 

Grogu squeaked once again, waving his arms for attention. Boba sank down to the floor, reaching out a gloved finger for Grogu to hold on to. “What is it, kid? What do you need?” 

Grogu yanked on his hand before gesturing wildly at the window, babbling the whole time. Mindful of the wet paint, Boba carefully picked him up and walked him to the transparisteel. He could feel Din watching them curiously. 

“Bah!” Grogu yelled, drops of paint flying as he gesticulated at some point outside the window. 

“What is it?” Din murmured, moving closer. “What’s he pointing at?”

“Bah!” He yelled again, pressing a wet finger to the window. 

“Is it the tree?” Din asked, confused. 

Grogu turned to give his buir an annoyed face, one that had Boba nearly shaking from holding back a laugh. He couldn’t help it. The grumpy, disappointed frown looked exactly like the one Din wore whenever Boba accidentally woke him up too early. He really was Din’s son. 

Grogu jabbed at the window again. “Further behind the tree,” Boba translated, squinting as he struggled to look through the blob of paint. “I think he means… oh. _Oh_.” 

Boba grinned wolfishly behind the durasteel. “Oh well _done_ Gro’ika, that is a _fantastic_ idea.”

“What?” Din asked again, slightly impatient. “What do you see?”

“Solo’s ship covered in a layer of hot pink paint,” Boba said, proud. Grogu cooed at the idea in delight, and well, never let it be said that Grogu wasn’t Boba’s son too. 

“Alright,” Boba said, shifting into planning mode. “This is going to be step one of a three-phase, multi-step plan.” He looked down at Grogu, mock serious. “I’m going to need you and your other buir’s help on this. Can you do it?”

His son puffed up his chest and babbled out something similar to “‘lek.” Din leaned against Boba with an agreeable hum, and Boba grinned. The plan might be a little more kid-friendly than he initially imagined, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still have fun with it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I write in Boba’s pov too much it’s only bc I love him. But yeah, Han pov in the next chapter; I promise I’m not trying to write him as a total asshole lol. 
> 
> As always my tumblr is @sunshine-bats


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